Beautiful Immorality
by Loie
Summary: Donia's story of how she met the Summer King. Full summary inside.
1. Prologue

**Sorry to people who have me on author alert and have been getting all these emails about the same story. I keep making mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I am not the edgy lady named Melissa Marr.**

**Summary: Donia O'Brien lives in upstate New York in 1946. At eighteen years old, she is on the brink of adulthood. Her parents have found her a reputable suitor and she is beginning her job as the town's schoolteacher. This all changes, however, the day she meets the beautiful and mysterious Keenan, a newcomer from the city, whose older brothers recently bought the farmland down the road.**

The Summer King knelt before her. "Is this what you freely choose, to risk winter's chill?"

She watched him—the boy she'd fallen in love with these past weeks. She'd never dreamed he was something other than human, but now his skin glowed as if flames flickered just under the surface, so strange and beautiful she couldn't look away. "It's what I want."

"You understand that if you are not the one, you'll carry the Winter Queen's chill until the next mortal risks this? And you'll warn her not to trust me?" He paused, glancing at her with pain in his eyes.

She nodded.

"If she refuses me, you will tell the next girl and the next"—he moved closer—"and not until one accepts will you be free of the cold."

"I do understand." She smiled as reassuringly as she could, and then she walked over to the hawthorn bush. The leaves brushed against her arms as she bent down and reached under it.

Her finger wrapped around the Winter Queen's staff. It was a plain thing, worn as if countless hands had clenched the wood. It was those hands, those other girls who'd stood where she now did, she didn't want to think about.

She stood, hopeful and afraid.

Behind her, he moved closer. The rustling of trees grew almost deafening. The brightness from his skin, his hair, intensified. Her shadow fell on the ground in front of her.

He whispered, "Please, let her be the one…"

She held the Winter Queen's staff—and hoped. For a moment she even believed, but then ice pierced her, filled her like shards of glass in her veins.

She screamed his name: Keenan!"

She stumbled toward him, but he walked away, no longer glowing, no longer looking at her.

Then she was alone—with only a wolf for companionship—waiting to tell the next girl what a folly it was to love him, to trust him.

**OK in case you didn't notice, none of the writing is mine. It's the prologue from Wicked Lovely. If you've been on MM's site, you understand why I put it up as a first chapter/prologue. If not, go check it out. By the way, are you all excited for Fragile Eternity? I'm tearing up just thinking about the summary I read. Anyway, if you would be so kind as to drop me a review enclosing your personal input and reactions, even though nothing really happened, please do so. It's much appreciated. Oh, and to let you know, I do not update often. I'm a busy girl, updates literally take me over 6 hours, and my other story isn't done quite yet, but it's getting there. But I do try hard to update whenever possible. Thanks for your understanding.**

**--Loie**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Wicked Lovely is too dark and awesome for me to come up with it. **

The lone wall clock ticked the last seconds of the day, moving slower as it travelled uphill to the Roman numeral twelve. The kids were working on their homework—Donia thought it would be a nice gift to give them some time in class for it—so she just kept to herself, reading _Light in August_, which was hidden safely under the confines of her desk. She could very well lose her job if someone caught her with this book, being the victim of countless book burnings across the country. Her folks would not be happy at all if she came home with a notice like that, and after her first week, too. But Donia believed that the banned books were the best ones of all, the ones that deserved the most attention and praise. They were the forefront of a new revolution.

Donia heard stirring in the students. She glanced up, seeing that they were all preparing for their treks—some much longer than others—home. She looked at the clock just as the last second slipped by.

_Brrring!_

"Have a nice weekend!" Donia called as cheerfully as she could. Some of the students were considerate enough to smile and wish her a good weekend as well, but most paid her no attention as they rushed out the door in a sudden burst of energy, as if brought back to life from the deathly bore of school. She didn't blame them, though. It was a Friday afternoon; the sun was shining brightly through the windows, tempting the children with their warm rays that hinted at what was outside—soft green grass, clear blue skies, and the glorious smell of the last days of summer. _Let them enjoy it while it lasts—they've got a long six months ahead of them._

She began cleaning the chalkboards behind her desk at the front of the room when there was a knock at the door. Shannon peeked cautiously into the room, her braids that Donia ha plaited so carefully that morning a complete mess, her unruly bright red hair sticking out everywhere. Donia inwardly sighed and shook her head at the girl's state of appearance, which would only be acceptable for a few short years before she would be too old to wear untidy hair.

"Are you ready, Miss O'Brien?" she asked in a small voice. Her bright blue eyes studied Donia cautiously.

Donia smiled to herself. Always the careful one, Shannon was. _That is, until she is in the familiarity of her own home. _"Shan, you can just call me Donia now. I'm almost done, but do you want to clean those erasers for me while I finish with the boards?"

Shannon's face relaxed considerably as she skipped into the room and hastily dropped her books on a nearby desk so she could perform her favorite task. For most, cleaning chalkboard erasers was a punishment for the naughty students, but for Shannon, it was some source of wonderment as the dust particles formed clouds of different shapes and sizes, slowly dissipating into nothingness, just like a dream slipping away from the dreamer's mind as they slip back into consciousness. She clapped the erasers with vigor as Donia finished the last board.

Donia gathered up her textbooks and turned to Shannon, who was still marveling at the chalk dust. "Ready to go, Shan?" she asked, breaking the girl out of her trance.

Shannon put the erasers back on the ledge. "Yes, Miss O'Brien."

She sighed. "Shannon, I'm not a teacher anymore. I'm just your sister."

"Okay, _Donia_," she giggled.

Donia looked around the room, her brow creasing deeper with every turn. "Where are Moira and Finn?"

"They left without us. I tried to tell them that they would get in trouble cause you want us to all walk home together and so do Ma and Dad, but they don't listen to me." She stuck out a lip. "They _never_ listen to me."

"That's okay, Shan. They don't listen to me, either."

"Yeah, but you're older and bigger and now you're a teacher. When do I get to be big?"

Donia laughed darkly. "Don't worry, you'll be grown up before you know it," she muttered.

The girls walked down the dirt road through the town, passing Gilmour's General Store, the post office, and St. John's. The sun was still high and strong, but not as much so as last week. Yet another sign of the coming winter. The chilly wind swept up behind them with more of a bite than they were accustomed to, as if warning them to hurry home, and the girls quickened their pace for a few steps in response.

Once they reached the edge of the town, Donia began to walk faster. They were passing through the strip of woods between the town and the farmland that stretched for about a quarter of a mile. The trees formed a thick canopy over their heads, giving what little light that was not caught in the leaves and branches, like flies in a spider web, a green tint. It was colder under the cover of the trees, but it wasn't the sudden chill that kept Donia walking at top speed without breaking into a run. Somehow, she thought running would make it even worse.

Shannon jogged to keep up with her. "Donia, why are you going so fast?"

Donia shrugged, trying to seem as calm as possible, even though her heart was raging and her mind on edge. "I just want to get home, that's all. Don't you?" She tried turning the tables on her.

"Yes, but not_ this_ fast," she complained. "Can't we slow down?"

_No. We can't. _But of course she didn't say this aloud. She couldn't, seeing that she didn't have a real reason for her rushing home. So she obliged, but only enough so that Shannon could walk.

Donia honestly did not know what brought this sudden paranoia. She used to love walking through the woods. The trees, so strong and durable, they were her friends. She could climb and sit in them all day, not once being dropped. They gave her shade in the hot, blistering summers and firewood in the blistering temperatures. She would play with her brothers and sisters all the time when she was younger, the trees acting as chaperones while their parents were tending the farm.

But lately, the woods were just not themselves. They were the trees…but there was something else with them. _Or more like someone._ She had only noticed this a few weeks ago, but it was different almost as once, instead of a gradual change, like she had blinders taken off her eyes, exposed to know what was truly out there. She knew that no one lived in the forest, but Donia couldn't help but think that someone was watching her. First, it was just here on the way home, but for the past days, she felt the invisible eyes all the way to her house or to school. It made her a nervous wreck, always glancing over her shoulder and jumping at the smallest noise in the background, just like in the films that she would see with Anita on special trips to the cinema in the next town over. _Who knows what could be in the woods?_

And those scary stories her Ma told of the Fey of Ireland didn't help, either. They lived in woods just like these. The dark, thick kind that anyone could get lost in so easily if they strayed from the trail. Then they would grab anyone fool enough to wander and take them back to their realm, never to be seen again. Once in a while, the missing person would return, but it would be one hundred years after they disappeared or they would be completely insane, or both. Donia shuddered.

"How can you be cold?" Shannon asked incredulously.

"It's just the wind. Caught me by surprise." She couldn't tell little Shannon what the problem really was. She wasn't aware of anything strange going on, so it must have been all Donia's imagination.

Of course there was nothing to be afraid of. There were no such things as the Fey—it was just an old wives' tale to scare children from running into the forest. There couldn't be any wanderers looking for trouble here, either. It was September, they had all gone south by now, knowing full well what a New York winter was like: long and cold. Even deadly. It was probably just a few animals that had Donia so spooked. And they were nothing to be afraid of, either. The men, her Dad included, had run all the wolves and cougars out years ago. They even had an annual hunt just in case any came back. They had just come back empty handed a week ago. There was nothing to fear, especially if Shannon hadn't seen or heard anything suspicious.

_But then why do I still feel uneasy?_

_Because it is not something I hear or see, but what I feel._ She felt it as she and her little sister walked through the trees, staying strictly to the path this time. Even when Shannon had spotted wildflowers growing not twenty feet away, Donia called her back before she could step off the dirt road that, to Donia, seemed to be their only safety, like an invisible wall surrounded them and the path, impenetrable to the invisible eyes and whatever was attached to them, but broken once the girls walked through it. She didn't care how pretty of a pink they were, or how much Ma would love them. They had to keep going.

The girls finally saw the light at the end of the forest tunnel. Donia sighed in relief. They would make it, they would escape. Escape from what, though, she was not sure. She sped up again, anxious to get away from the unknown danger.

"Race you to the gate," Donia challenged in a desperate attempt to give her excuse to her sudden urge to sprint home. Lately, it was one of the very few places she felt safe.

Shannon replied by sprinting down the road, her books tucked under her arm. Donia took after her full speed, but her own books slowed her down. She followed the giggles of the bright haired girl, focusing on the bouncing braids of frizz so she could forget why she was really running in the first place.

"Ha, I beat you!" Shannon shouted in between gulps of air.

"You sure did. Now let's go and get our chores done." Donia wanted to get in the safe confines of her house as soon as possible. They were out of the forest, true. She no longer felt countless eyes on them. But that didn't mean that she didn't still feel like she was being watched. It wasn't many eyes, but only one, maybe two, sources now. And they only went away when she was in her home.

"Donia, can't we do them later?" Shannon whined. "I wanna play with Jack instead." As if on cue, Jack came bounding toward the girls, barking in joy of their return. "See? He wants to play, too. Come on, Donia, please?"

Donia sighed, torn between being responsible and being carefree. She knew the right decision, but she was so tired of acting like an adult. Being the oldest girl, she always had to grow up a little faster than everyone else. Now, she had teaching and Joshua was due to finally come home within a week…it was tiring to make such a drastic transformation, all in little over a month. And the invisible, unknown eyes only added on to her stress levels. Unfortunately for Shannon, it was not tiring enough to give into temptation. "Sorry, Shan, but you know the rules. Chores first, play later."

"But—"

"No buts, and I mean it. Let's go. We need to milk the cows before it gets too late. Hopefully, Connor, Moira, and Finn already started." Donia doubted it, though.

Shannon, being a girl of action, cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Moira! Finn! Connor! Where are you?!"

Moira poked her head out of the window of the house, clearly irritated. "I'm in the house, obviously, Shannon. The boys are in the barn. And keep your voice down. You know Ma doesn't like shouting."

Donia put her free hand on her hip and looked down at her sister. "See? They're already hard at work and here you are standing idly."

"But Moira's in the house doing nothing," complained the red haired girl.

Donia gripped her books a little tighter. Normally she was the most patient with the youngest O'Brien, but her stressful first week, not to mention her newfound paranoia, was setting her on edge. She closed her eyes and spoke softly. "Shannon O'Brien, please go to the barn right now. I do not have the energy for you today."

"Donia!"

She snapped her eyes open to glare at Moira. "What do you want?" she shouted back, not bothering to keep the irritation from her voice.

Moira didn't even notice her sister's hostility, or ignored it, having been the sender more than her share of occasions. "Ma says you need to help me with the house."

"What about the house?" Donia yelled back. She had finally given up on all formalities. She didn't care about being a good example anymore.

"She said t prepare it for guests."

"What guests?"

Moira sighed loud enough for her sisters to hear all the way from the gate. "The new neighbors who bought the Willis' land," she replied as if stating the obvious.

"Alright. Come on, Shan. You heard her."

Shannon scuffed the ground with her toe. "Actually, I was thinking I should go help calm the cows for Finn and Connor." She took off running to the barn before she could hear otherwise, making Donia chuckle to herself. Shannon definitely knew how to pick the lesser of two evils. Unfortunately, Donia did not have that luxury anymore.

Then she was left alone in the yard. Donia became hyperaware of the eyes now that there was nothing to distract her. After turning full circle quickly, scanning the terrain for anything out of the ordinary…and finding nothing, of course. Not fully convinced of what her eyes told her—that there was_ nothing_ out there, for goodness' sake—she dashed into the house to join Ma and Moira in preparing to welcome the new neighbors.

**XXXXX**

"She's definitely more perceptive than I was. Do you think she suspects anything?"

"No, how could she? She can't see us, Liseli." Sure, this new girl might sense their presence, but Keenan was confident that Donia had no idea what was happening. He had seen this happen once in a while with the humans. The smarter ones could almost know they weren't alone, but either just thought it was irrational paranoia, just as this Donia seemed to think, or they came up with a ludicrous excuse such as ghosts.

Liseli clicked her tongue as she watched the new girl yell across the yard and winced as she ran into the house. "They sure don't make young women they way they used to be. Did you see her run, Keenan?" She shuddered and shook her head. "She certainly does not behave as a Summer Queen should."

"It's not about elegance, Liseli," Keenan defended. "She's a teacher. Therefore, she is intelligent and can control and lead others. It's exactly what I need in a Summer Queen." He knew it. She would be the one he had been waiting for nine centuries. The dreams he had of her, leading a powerful Summer Court to defeat Beira, to row, to become the strongest of the four courts. He would live and rule happily with her, they would be the perfect King and Queen. They would love each other passionately and bring the next generation of the Summer Court. Yes, she was definitely the one. He could picture her already transformed—her straw colored hair becoming beams of sunlight, her dark blue eyes being the exact shade of a clear summer's afternoon. The light dusting of freckles across her nose would sparkle like a hundred suns and her pale skin would be golden. She would be a most beautiful Summer Queen indeed.

He started off down the road, lost in his fantasies of the future, only to be abruptly thrown out of them by Liseli's calls. "Keenan! Where are you going now? The Courts are over in the trees, not the farms!" she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

To my new home," he said without a backward glance. "I have a get-together with my brothers and neighbors to prepare for."

"You mean…?"

"Yes, Liseli. Niall bought the land next to the girl's house three days ago. Let the games begin again." _But this time, she will be mine, she will be the one._ Of that fact, he was most certain.

**So...review, please! I really want to know what you guys think, especially since I'm adding loads of OCs and it's pretty much a whole different story, but I did do my research and found the hints dropped in _WL_ about Donia's story. For the record, I don't know if _Light In August_ was ever banned. It's what I'm reading in school and pretty out there with the themes. Thanks for reading!**

**--Loie**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Wicked Lovely. I'm just taking them out to play.**

The sun, glowing a magnificent orange, blinding to any human, lowered swiftly to the west, beyond the expansive pastures and into the thick trees that lay off in the distance, some two or three miles away. Despite the visual strengths it held, Keenan could barely feel its physical strength, its warmth. _It's all just an illusion, an optical illusion._

But that would change in a few short weeks. The game would be over, Beira would finally lose reign, and Keenan could finally, after all the centuries living in humiliation, not being able to fully protect his Court from the taunting Winter faeries, regain his full power. His Court would once again be powerful, just like when his father was Summer King, and drive away the lingering cold that always seemed to strengthen too early in the seasons and stay well past the point of unwelcome by both humans and faeries alike. Even to the children, who were the only ones, it seemed, to be able it find something good in the cold, dead months, sledding down hills and waging war through snowballs and snow forts. Instead, they too longed for the summer months long before Beira would release her freeze on the lands. To Keenan, when the children longed for change, it was the right time, which was not the beginning of September, when the students looked longingly at the sun on their way home, wishing for it to maintain its warm, comfortable climate for just a few weeks longer and shivered at the chill wind that blew harshly against their backs.

The Summer Fey were even worse off. They lamented every year when the first hint of winter revealed itself, weakening each day as the temperature dropped lower and lower—Keenan included.

And there was nothing that Keenan could do to help them, help himself.

That was why the new human girl, Donia, was so important. She alone held the key to the Summer Court's future, its success. She would be the Summer Queen Keenan had been searching for. She would give the imprisoned King his powers in full, the Court their long-missed summer—a _true _summer, not the pathetic bouts of warm weather that lasted for a meager two months. Donia, with her golden locks so much like the brilliant sun already as a human, would be Summer itself.

And so, Keenan walked, invisible to the humans—even o the unusually perceptive Donia—to the modest wooden-planked house that Niall had taken from the old couple three days ago. It really was simple work to dispose of them. They were already senile in their advanced age, it was only a matter of persuading them to drink the wine, which of course no human could withstand without losing their sanity, it was so pure. They had immediately become addicted, pleading for the sweet essence of sun, pathetic as small children, though their wrinkled faces could never conform to anything remotely youthful. They gave the old, deranged couple their terms of agreement: sell their property publicly to them, and they could have all the wine they wanted. They agreed instantly, just like the other humans who were put under the drink's spell, and announced their intended departure the next Sunday at the town's church service. They even feigned reluctance as their neighbors—the O'Briens included—protested the move. But nothing could have stopped their decision it was just as permanent as their addiction that drove it. Niall and Tavish appeared the next day, donned in their glamour. The exchange lasted less than an hour. As soon as the two disguised faeries disappeared out of the humans' sight, they began to pack their belongings rapidly, as if the devil was chasing them, hunting them for their souls. Little did they know that they had walked right onto the devil's doorstep, soliciting their souls in exchange for some faery wine.

That was only the first step into assimilating into this small town in the middle of nowhere. After that one mistake almost eight centuries ago, Keenan made sure that he did everything correctly and push down the burning impatience that always came close to enveloping him completely, compelling him to take her, unleash his full potential so she would follow him to the ends of the earth after only a day. But chaos would ensue if that happened again. He would not allow the humans to be suspicious of their presence ever again. The safety of his Court fey would never be compromised by playing the game expediently.

So he had to play the humans' games within the Winter Queen's games. He was jumping through hoops like a circus animal, maimed and broken and tortured, all for Beira's entertainment. _But this will be the last time._

At least he had finished the most tedious part of the humans' games. He had gone the day before into the town, not only to make his face and name known to the humans—for it was better to be forward rather than secretive with them—but also to learn more about his new girl.

He had decided to enter what he assumed was a general store, seeing that it was a rather large building constructed of boards crudely plastered together with what appeared to be a mixture of clay and mud and whose windows were painted with the word "Gilmour's" in red and gold. As he opened the door, a bell on the frame chimed announcing his presence to the middle-aged man standing behind the counter.

Keenan quickly double-checked that he looked as human as he could portray—his hair dulled to a strawberry blond in addition to his eyes which were only a brilliant green instead of the shade of lush summer leaves.

The storekeeper looked up from his magazine, his spectacles hanging crookedly on the tip of his nose. "Ah, mornin', sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for flour," Keenan lied smoothly.

"That'd be in the third aisle to the right," the manager replied.

Keenan, now obliged to carry out the lie, headed towards the smell. He already knew where it was, but that was not the point of this outing. He selected the smallest sack and walked smoothly back to the counter where the thin storekeeper stood waiting, magazine set to the side, but open and upside down, waiting to be picked up again shortly. Keenan inwardly cringed. How boring it must be to wait on the few lowly humans who passed here.

"Hm, that's the five pound sack…so that's fifty cents, Stranger."

The Summer King rummaged in his pockets and found the appropriate mortal money. He handed it back to the lanky man, but was not relieved of the coins. Instead, the human's eyes were a shining gray with excitement. _Just what I've been waiting for._

"So, where'd you come from, Stranger?" he asked, attempting to sound nonchalant. Keenan could almost taste the anxious curiosity.

"New York City."

The bespectacled man whistled long and loud. "What's a city slicker doing 'round here? This is nothing like the city, Stranger."

Keenan shrugged, letting the human's words roll off him without thinking too much about how much he wanted to scare him because of that comment. "I know. My brothers and I decided to come out here since the land is cheap and the city was getting crowded with the end of the war."

The manager's eyes narrowed behind his askew glasses. "Shouldn't you have been in France, too? I've no doubt that you were old enough to serve this country," he accused, his voice becoming increasingly hard and edgy.

"I've only just turned nineteen. I've never been drafted."

"What about volunteering? It's your duty as a young man," he growled.

Keenan could feel his temper rise like a fierce summer storm. He quickly pushed it away, but the pestering human caught the flash of emotions, which were returned with almost just as much vigor. Keenan quickly came up with a lie. "The military wouldn't take me anyway. Not with my eyesight."

"You aren't wearing specs now," the manager replied matter-of-factly.

"Ah, my good sir, only the slightest nearsightedness earns a rejection. I rarely use them, only for reading afar."

The lanky storekeeper shrugged, defeated. "Shame you couldn't serve your country like the other young men. My son is just returning in a week or so."

"Is that so?" Keenan inquired, hoping to get the mortal on a tangent.

"Sure is. I'm so relieved he's coming home in one piece. That's one lucky boy right there. Not a hair harmed on his head. And with all those poor boys who'll never come home…It's a shame, it is. Well, I'm sure Josh has been through more than his share as it is. It's been almost five years since he was drafted. Only seventeen then, too. It was hard on all of us, the whole town. Him and then Connor O'Brien a couple months later. Those poor O'Briens, losing their oldest son. Especially Donia, she just seemed devastated."

Keenan's ears pricked up. "Donia?"

The storekeeper was only too eager to respond. "Yes, Donia O'Brien. What a good girl she is. Pretty as ever, too. Josh is one lucky man."

"Why is that?" the Summer King asked, using every ounce of effort to not expose the fiery rage that was boiling on his soul like molten rock. He hated competition. He had dealt with it before, on innumerable accounts, but it only made the game trickier. The human males were always so stubborn and aggressive, protecting their women from him like he would be the death of him.

How ironic it was that they were not far from their mark.

The bell tinkled as the door opened and a slight girl walked in, a slip of paper clutched in her hand. Her lank, mousy brown hair was pinned back on the sides, falling to her shoulders. She smiled sweetly at the middle-aged man behind the counter, saying "Mornin', Mr. Gilmour."

"Mornin', Anita. Got a list this time, I see."

The girl called Anita nodded and blushed a light pink. "Yes. I can't be forgetting these things in two weeks, you know."

Gilmour whistled again. Long and loud. "That soon, is it?"

"Yes, sir. Me and Connor wanted to wait until Joshua was back home so he could be the best man. He should be back now, right?"

"Any day now. How's Donia doing with it all? I haven't seen her come in here recently. Neither had the missus. Only Moira has been doing the shopping."

Anita's amber-colored eyes flashed with wariness as she averted her gaze from Gilmour. She then looked up to notice Keenan, changing the subject quickly. "Oh, who's this, Mr. Gilmour? How you do?" She stuck a small hand in the Summer King's direction.

Keenan accepted the hands, shaking it up and down three times before abruptly letting go. All the while, the human girl examined him from his red-blond hair to his boot-clad feet with a look of lusty wonder in her light eyes. The break of contact seemed to break the trance she was in, however. She appeared to catch herself in the act and pursed her lips as she toed the ground in shame. Keenan allowed his lips to curl into a grin. Even the other mortal girls, who would never experience the full potential of his dangerous charm, fell under his spell. All the better for him, though. They were more than willing to do whatever he asked of them. _Sometimes too willing…_

The manager broke the silence. "Oh, erm…well, this is…" He adjusted his glasses nervously as he realized that he never asked for the Summer King's name.

"Keenan," he broke in, much to Gilmour's relief. "Keenan Dwyer."

"Anita Hayworth," the girl returned, placing her fingertips delicately on her collarbone. She giggled. "Well, soon to be Anita O'Brien."

"Congratulations," the Summer King said politely. "Is this to the Connor O'Brien that Mr. Gilmour has been talking about?"

"Yes, sir," Gilmour answered in an attempt to keep in the conversation.

"Oh, Mr. Gilmour, you're not giving this newcomer the town gossip already, are you? I'm sure the poor young man has been here less than right."

"That's right," Keenan confessed.

"The fellow should know," Gilmour defended. "He's just moved here, anyhow."

Anita shook her head in defeat and clicked her tongue. "I'm going to fetch all the groceries. While I'm gone, try not to tell our whole lives to Keenan. But if you must, try not to exaggerate too much. Your reputation for spinning tall tales doesn't come from nowhere." She raised her eyebrows at Gilmour and stared him down playfully before she disappeared down the tall maze of shelves filled with disorganized products.

Keenan remembered the coins still in his hand. Thinking that he should at least start off with a good reputation, he slid them across the counter to Gilmour.

"Oh, thank you. I almost forgot." The human adjusted his glasses in chagrin before taking the coins one by one in his hands, opening the cash register with a _cha-ching!_ and placing them in their respective compartments, one by one.

"That girl, she is young to be engaged, isn't she?" Keenan asked in an attempt for more small-talk.

"Who, Anita? No no, she's just at a good age. Eighteen, her and Donia both. Hopefully there will be another wedding soon."

Keenan furrowed his eyebrows, not liking the sudden turn of the conversation. "Another wedding? Who would be getting married?"

Gilmour smiled and stared at the counter. "Well, granted the engagement is not official—it should be in a month or so—but my Joshua I know for a fact is lookin' for Donia to be his wife. He's been sweet on her since before he left and they've been writing back and forth ever since, so it's only a matter of time before they tie the knot," he reasoned.

"But surely that doesn't mean that they will automatically marry." The Summer King knew the truth all too well. Still, engaged girls were not as easy to take. There were too many eyes on the bride-to-be. But it all ended the same way. Donia would be his.

Gilmour guffawed. "My boy, this is not the city. We do not meet our wives in dark, dirty bars and clubs, only to divorce them five years later. No, these two have known each other since Donia could barely talk. They've spent _time_ together. They _know_ each other through a life's worth of time together.

"What about a 'life's worth of time together'?" Anita asked as she approached, unloading an armful of groceries on the counter.

"I was just explaining to young Master Dwyer here how marriage works around here. I was taking Josh and Donia as an example."

Again, the flash of guilt in her eyes.

Gilmour totaled up the cost. "Four dollars and eight cents, my dear," he announced as he opened the cash register again. _Cha-ching!_

Anita plastered a smile on her face as she extracted money from a small sack attached to the waist of her skirt and placed the coins in the storekeeper's hands. He then packed the items in two large paper bags, placing the heavy ones on the bottom, smaller and lighter ones on top. The human girl was reaching in attempt to carry both bags, one in each arm, when Keenan recognized his opportunity to not only escape from the increasingly bothersome storekeeper, but to find out what Anita was obviously hiding about Donia.

"Here, let me help you with that," Keenan offered as he relieved her of a bag.

"Why, thank you." She smiled sweetly. "Such a gentleman."

That only earned a scowl from Gilmour.

Keenan ignored the middle-aged man's sour expression as he stuck out his hand, which Gilmour shook reluctantly. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Gilmour," he said with his best grin.

The Summer King's charm, as always, took immediate effect. "Same, Master Dwyer. Tell those brothers of yours welcome to town for me."

"Sure thing, sir."

"Bye, Mr. Gilmour," Anita called before opening the door, that bell tinkling again. Keenan followed her.

"It's not a far walk," she assured. "Thank you for your help. God knows how many times I've dropped groceries."

"No problem. What was the problem back there with Mr. Gilmour talking about his son and Donia O'Brien?" He figured it was better to be blunt this time rather than beating around the bush.

Anita bit the inside of her cheek nervously. "It's really not my place…"

"You can trust me." _Wrong._

"Well…"

"Go on."

"It's just that I don't think that Donia's happy with it all."

"What do you mean by 'it all'?"

The human girl sighed. "I just don't think she's the same anymore. We used to have fun, laugh, tease, everything. But lately she just seems…I don't know…dead. I don't think that Joshua makes it any better, either. She tries to be tough and take care of her family and work at the elementary school…and she knows of Joshua's intentions. She says that she wants that life, but I don't thinks so. She doesn't smile anymore. I mean _really_ smile. You know what I mean?"

Keenan nodded, taking it all in. This was going to be too easy.

"She'll do it all, though. She's that stubborn. But I just miss the old Donia. Did you know we used to sneak off to the next town, Barrington, to go dancing? Oh, those were the best nights. That was the real Donia. You know, I think she'd be very happy in the city. But she loves Sugar Creek too much. She'd never leave. I guess that's what makes her such a good person." Anita caught herself and blushed. "Oh, dear. I've said too much. Please don't tell anyone that you know all this, especially Donia. She'd hold it over my head forever. She can be a real firecracker when she wants to. Promise me?"

"Of course," the Summer King agreed.

The mortal breathed out in relief. "Thanks."

They turned the corner when someone yelled down the street. "Anita!"

She immediately perked up and whirled around to face the voice's source. A young man with one arm came jogging to meet them, a goofy smile on his face. He approached her and kissed her soundly on the cheek, much to her obvious pleasure. His arms—or what was left of them, seeing that his left was amputated at the elbow—wrapped her around the waist in a tight hug.

Behind the couple, a spiked faery was hugging them both, digging his prickles into their backs. The humans would definitely feel that in a couple hours. They might even discover the puncture wounds and the small holes in their clothes. Keenan shot a disapproving glare at the faery, but he only laughed and gave one final tight squeeze before skipping away and laughing hysterically.

"Who's this, Anita?" the young man asked, not quite managing to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Connor, this is Keenan Dwyer. Keenan, this is my fiancé, Connor O'Brien."

They both exchanged pleasantries and shook hands.

"Nice meeting you."

"Same here."

"Here, let me take that for you," Connor said as he grabbed the bag from the Keenan. He seemed too eager to taking his human girl away from the Summer King. But he had nothing to fear.

_It is this Joshua Gilmour who has reason to fear._ And Donia made it all the more worse for the mortal, according to her friend. Someone who hadn't already given her heart was so easy to seduce. She would give her heart to him on a silver platter.

Yes, it would be easy indeed. He entered the old house, searching for his "brothers" before the three of them set out for the O'Briens' house.

But on hindsight, Keenan knew that it was too easy, far too easy.

**That was a big set up for the future, so remember this chapter. Also, sorry, but I couldn't help myself with Connor's appearance (only 2 of you understand my implications), but it also is more realistic, I think. Review my lovely readers! They make my day!**

**--Loie**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't spread rumors that I own **_**Wicked Lovely**_**. It's not nice.**

"Donia Eileen!"

Donia jumped at her mother's shrill voice. She had been staring off into the clouds. Again. She quickly gripped the broom she had been leaning on and swept the floor in a hurry as I it would compensate for her daydreaming.

It wasn't true daydreaming, though. If it was, she would have a small smile on her face. She would have been thinking of when she could go out with Anita again, sneaking out the back doo r at night while her parents were asleep and run to Leona's. There, she and Anita would dance the night away with any young man who was willing to have a good time.

Instead, she thought of how tired she was, how monotonous her life was becoming. The responsibilities that were being thrown at her from left and right were overwhelming. Was this how she would feel for the rest of her life?

_No. There has to be another way._

Her thoughts haunted her as she continued cleaning the kitchen. It was almost torture for her Ma to assign this room for her. The wide open window above the sink looked out to the backyard where the barn lay. She saw Connor and Finn and Shan walk in and out, caring for the cows. A teasing breeze blew in, swirling crisp, cold air around her face. Despite the temperature, she longed to switch places with one of them.

What lay inside was just as tempting. The scents that were emanating from the oven and stove were so glorious, her mouth was flooding. She hadn't eaten in over six hours. She wanted so terribly to sneak a taste, but she knew Ma would catch her. She would just have to wait until the new neighbors came.

_Shouldn't they be here by now?_

Donia finished with the floor and glanced around the kitchen for any stray messes she might have missed. Finding everything as spotless as her Ma liked it, she put all of her cleaning supplies in the closet before seeking out her mother as a good daughter should, ready for the next assigned task.

She was busy fluffing the pillows on the couches wile Moira was setting the table for ten. It was quite a sight. The table was too small already with only seven place settings. With three additional ones, plates were nearly touching and the silverware was intermingled. Moira had to steal chairs from various other rooms of the house, making it a hodgepodge of various heights and sizes.

"I'm done with the kitchen," Donia announced.

Ma paused only long enough to give a cursory examination of Donia's appearance. "Go change into a clean dress, then." Donia opened her mouth to protest, but Ma cut her off. "Don't argue, young lady. You're far too old to receiving guests in that." She gestured to Donia's school blouse and skirt. "Go wash your face, comb your hair, and change into your Sunday dress."

Donia silently did as she was told, but couldn't help herself from erring from her mother's requests. Her blond hair was pinned back, but only at the sides. It fell down to the center of her back, long and sleek. She was still young, why did she always have to conform to adulthood? It wasn't indecent; it was just unusual, which was not something Ma condoned.

_She doesn't approve of_ _anything I used to do._

Running in the fields, riding bareback on the horses, grazing with the cows, everything she did up until a year ago, Ma did not approve. Now, on the brink of eighteen, it was practically forbidden, let alone what Ma did not know what Donia did with Anita every Saturday night while the rest of her family slept. That is, every Saturday night until two months ago.

Donia raced down the stairs, careful to make as little noise as possible. Ma didn't like that, either. Connor, Finn, and Shannon were just walking in, red-cheeked and red-nosed.

"Ah! Stop right where you are!" Ma ordered. "Go wipe your feet this instant. Your sister just finished cleaning the floor and would not appreciate you muddying it up."

The three of them groaned and turned back to dramatically rid their shoes of any lingering dirt.

"Donia, go help Shannon clean up," Ma called from her bedroom.

Donia sighed. "Come on, Shan. We have to hurry; they'll be here any minute. And we don't want to miss it when they come. Or worse—they'll eat all the food before we have a chance!"

The little redhead giggled at her older sister's dramatics. They rushed upstairs, hand-in-hand, and made quick work of Shannon's frazzled state. Just as they were descending the stairs, the doorbell rang.

_Ding-dong!_

All six O'Briens froze on the spot for a split second. Before anyone had the chance to open the front door, it opened itself.

"I'm back! And I come bearing riches!" Dad announced to his family.

"Oh, good, you finally sold that piece of junk?" Ma asked.

"Hey, that car served us well for almost ten years, Annie," Dad corrected.

Ma gave a "Humph!" and returned to her work, calling over her shoulder, "Go wash up, Tim. They'll be here any minute."

Dad walked up the stairs, only to be bombarded by Shannon, who hugged him around the waist. "Hi, Squirt," he chuckled.

_Ding-dong!_

"Could you get the door, Donia?" Dad asked.

"Donia! Answer the door and stop dawdling!"

"Door, Donia!"

Donia scowled. "Of course I will greet our neighbors. I wouldn't dream of anything else," she muttered as she descended the remaining stairs and crossed the living room to open the door. She wasn't the head of the household or even second-in-command, yet she was already assigned to be the spokesperson.

She opened the door to come face-to-face with the three men who were her new neighbors. One she presumed as the oldest had long chestnut hair that was pulled neatly back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. His eyes were as blue as the skies and seemed to hold centuries of memories, though he couldn't have been older than twenty-five.

Another had cropped hair at a silvery scar that extended from his temple to his eye, as if he had been sliced with a knife. Donia shivered. There was something about this man that told her to stay away. He held an aura of deceit and enticement that rooted Donia to the floor.

Her eyes travelled to the youngest of her neighbors, the one who stood on the far right. He was by far the most beautiful of them all. His sandy hair fell to his chin, thick and soft, like a lion's mane. Despite the short and weak summer, his skin was tanned and almost glowed. And his eyes…they were greener than Donia could have thought possible. They made her think of lush meadows and soft, cool grass under a hot sun. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. As she stood in the threshold, a good three inches above the front steps, his full, perfect lips were right at her eyelevel. She thought of how smooth they looked and how much she wanted to reach up and touch then. She pushed the thought away before she succumbed to temptation.

"Um, hello. Come on in, make yourselves comfortable. Oh, let me take your coats for you. I'm Donia, by the way." She extended her hand as a blush crept up her cheeks. _Great. I've already made a fool of myself._

The man with the long hair accepted her hand for a firm shake. "I'm Tavish Dwyer and these are my brothers Niall and—"

"Keenan," the blond boy said with an alluring smile.

Out of courtesy, Donia gave her hand to the youngest—_the most beautiful_—of the newcomers, but he didn't shake it. Instead, he delicately gripped her fingers to bring them to his lips. Not knowing where to look, Donia shot her eyes in all different directions, but not so fast as to miss the disapproving glares that Tavish and Niall were throwing at the young man who still had her hand at his lips.

When he had effectively sent Donia's heart racing at impossible speeds, Keenan released her hand, not bothering to hide the smirk on his beautiful face. Donia raised her eyebrows, questioning his cocky attitude. _What makes him thing that he's the bee's knees?_

Donia was brought back into reality by her Ma's presence at her back. Donia turned around to introduce her to the Dwyers, but she was cut off just as she opened her mouth.

"Hello, Tavish. These must be your brothers you were speaking of." Ma smiled sweetly at them, the perfect hostess.

"Yes. This is Keenan and Niall."

"And I see you've met my oldest daughter, Donia. She teaches at the elementary school." Ma smiled proudly, as if Donia was a prize daughter. _Keep pouring on the sugar, Ma._

"Why don't we step into the living room and meet the rest of the family?" Ma suggested. She turned to her daughter. "Donia, take these gentlemen's coats and hang them in the closet like a good girl."

Donia did as she was told, but when she approached the youngest, Keenan, he did not relinquish his coat. Instead, he folded it over his forearm, making it impossible for Donia to take it from him without seeming rude and violating his personal space. She looked at it draped over him, completely at a loss of what to do. He smiled at her confused frown, but there was something odd about it, like he knew something she didn't. It made him confident and all the more beautiful.

"I'll help you," he said. It wasn't a suggestion, but a declaration.

Donia was too hypnotized by his voice and smile to form a sentence to deny his offer. She nodded and walked to the other side of the entryway as Ma and Niall and Tavish went to the living room. Keenan opened the closet door for her. Donia just stared, wondering where in the world this boy came from to be so sure of himself. She shook her head in attempt to hide the fact that the corners of her mouth were turning up. Resisting the urge to look at him, she blindly offered a hanger behind her before hanging the other two coats in the closet. She turned around only to collide into Keenan, her face mere inches away from his neck. He reached around her—instead of moving out of the way, of course—to hang his coat behind her. Donia knew she shouldn't, but she relished the close proximity of this beautiful boy.

Reason rushed back into her mind like a tidal wave_. I don't even know this boy, she doesn't know me, and yet he is flirting with me shamelessly._ As much as she wanted him to continue, she knew it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She ducked under his arm and escaped from the confines of the closet.

He didn't look back as she scurried away to join her family and the Dwyers who were settled in the next room.

**XXXXX**

Keenan watched Donia as she escaped to the safety of the others' presence. Maybe he had been too blatant in his actions. He always did seem to come on too strong the first time with each new chosen girl. He might as well take the risk—any way to find his summer queen faster, he would do it.

He slowly walked over to the circle of sofas and armchairs that were surrounding the large coffee table that was adorned with mugs of coffee and tea and cocoa. He spotted Donia sitting on the arm of the sofa next to her mother, arms folded across her chest and back slouched. Her mother, deep in conversation with Tavish, glanced at her, noticed her posture, and lightly smacked her back. Donia jumped and immediately straightened her back ad hastily put her hands in her lap.

A little redhead girl sitting on the floor at Donia's feet was happily chattering away at anyone who would listen. "And one time, Missy kicked Moira right in the head!" The girl exploded in giggle fits. "Do you remember that, Moira?" A strawberry blond teenage girl glared at the redhead, but the girl ignored her sister and leaned towards Niall, who was listening politely, and muttered behind her hand, "She's still angry at poor Missy. I told Moira that she was milking her too hard, but nobody listens to me."

Niall gave a half-hearted laugh while looking over at Moira. The girl crossed her arms, blushed even redder than she already was, and gave her little sister a fierce death glare.

"What's your name?" Keenan asked the youngest, still sitting at Donia's feet. He sat cross-legged beside her. Donia flinched at his presence.

"Shan-non," she responded slowly and full of playful confidence. "What's yours?"

"Keen-an," he said, mimicking her tone. Shannon giggled.

Keenan noticed Donia watching out of the corner of her eye. _Good, she's watching and therefore interested._

"You're the youngest, too, right Keenan?" Shannon asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do Mr. Tavish and Mr. Niall listen to _you_?"

Of course they listened to him. But, he couldn't give her that kind of an answer. He had a role to keep. If he blew his cover, it would take that much more effort to gain Donia's trust. And with Liseli sure to reveal herself to Donia any day, he did not need any more disadvantages. "They did not used to when I was their age. They thought they were better than me just because they were older. But you know what?"

"What?" she repeated eagerly, her blue eyes even brighter with anticipation.

"We grew up and I became just as smart as they were. Now, it's like I'm the big brother."

"Wow," she whispered, completely awestruck. "When does that get to happen to me?"

Keenan shrugged. "When you're as old as me, maybe."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"That's even older than Donia!" she lamented. "You didn't tell me that you had to be an adult. I can't wait that long!"

Keenan locked eyes with said sister as she glanced down at the unusual pair sitting on the floor. It was for one long second that neither of them could pull away from. Donia blushed, obviously furious with herself for getting caught looking, before tearing her eyes away from Keenan. He grinned triumphantly.

"How old is Donia?" Keenan asked casually and loud enough for both girls to hear easily.

"Almost eighteen." But it wasn't Shannon who responded. Keenan looked up to find Donia staring intently at him, like it was a test, which it was.

"Good age to be," he said nonchalantly. "You're at the prime of your life."

Donia snorted.

"What?" Keenan might have found his window of opportunity.

"If this is the prime of my life, then I'd hate to see what my life will be like when I'm forty."

_You'll never have to find out._

_Rrrrring!_

Mrs. O'Brien jumped from the couch, her hands waving frantically as she rushed into the kitchen to retrieve dinner from the oven.

Keenan focused back on Donia, who was still waiting expectantly for an answer. Her eyebrows were raised high above her glasses, challenging him to prove her wrong.

He chose his words carefully. "Believe me when I say this: These days will be the ones that you will never forget, the ones you will always wish you could go back to."

Donia's brow furrowed. "I don't think so. I'm—"

Keenan stood in one swift movement and shushed her with a finger to her lips. "Come on. Your mother has dinner ready."

Right on cue, Mrs. O'Brien declared, "Dinner is served!"

Everyone immediately dropped all conversation to follow the rich smells of meatloaf, corn, and peas that were permeating through the house from the dining room. Mr. O'Brien kissed his wife swiftly on the cheek before taking his spot at the head of the table, Mrs. O'Brien on his right.

"Tavish, sit here," he invited with a friendly smile. "No need for you to get caught up in the middle of the children.

That issued a "Hey!" from Shannon and her brother who looked no older that eleven.

Niall sat beside Tavish. Immediately, Moira selected her seat beside him, a little more than friendliness in her eyes. Donia's older brother, whose name Keenan later learned to be Connor, took the chair beside his mother. Donia in turn sat next to him.

"Keenan! Sit between me and Donia!" Shannon called from her chair, peeking over the back. She sat opposite her father, which Keenan found as highly ironic. Of course, he didn't argue. He would take any excuse to sit next to Donia without hesitation.

The youngest O'Brien boy, however, was not pleased with the present seating arrangement. "Donia, can I switch spots with you?" he whined.

_Oh, no. She cannot move anywhere. _Keenan found Donia's hand and squeezed it lightly, a small yet possessive gesture. She jumped a fraction of an inch, but did not pull her hand away. He looked at her meaningfully, but persuasively. No need to scare her away with his temper. She would see it eventually, but not aimed at her. _Never aimed at her._

Her sky blue eyes bored right into him and for a second he thought she knew everything. About the game, his real identity, everything. But he reminded himself that of course she thought he was another average human. He mentally scoffed at such a demotion.

She nodded once, her eyes flashing with an expression he'd seen on so many other human girls—shy interest.

Donia looked away and regained her composure. "Finn, what's wrong with sitting right where you are?"

"I don't want to sit next to _girls_."

Donia sighed. "Finn, you're twelve years old. Girls don't have cooties. And you know, in a few short years, you'll _want_ to sit next to girls."

"Like how you're sitting next to only boys and Keenan is sitting next to only girls?"

Donia's cheeks promptly flushed. "Yes, I suppose," she admitted.

Keenan couldn't help but let a chuckle escape.

"What's so funny?" she challenged.

He shook his head and covered his mouth in an attempt to quiet his laughter. "It's nothing."

She glared at him with cold blue eyes that contrasted nicely with her sun-bleached hair and still-pink cheeks. Her black glasses had slid down the bridge of her nose and she looked over them. Her mood, just like his, had changed as fast as the clouds drifted in a summer storm. _Maybe that's a sign that she is the one. _

He stared right back, flirting again. But she wasn't. In a big sigh, she broke the stare, straightened her glasses, and turned back to the table to discover everyone else starting at her and Keenan. She groaned just loud enough for him to hear, blushed yet again, and slumped in her chair.

Keenan laughed once more. At least he got reactions out of her. She wasn't mad at him, he knew. Just embarrassed.

"I blame you," she whispered.

Keenan feigned shock. "What did I do?" he asked innocently. He was enjoying this game. _Much more than usual. _

"You know very well what you did."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do."

"Well, then you are just going to have to enlighten me then, since I have no idea what you are talking about."

She threw him another icy glare. However, it seemed to melt once they locked eyes again. "After dinner. Behind the barn."

Keenan smirked triumphantly. He had her eating out of his palm. She may not have known it at the time, but he did.

**XXXXX**

Once all the dished were scrubbed till they sparkled—for that was Ma's definition of clean—Donia stole out of the kitchen and ran into the chilly night. It was dark, but not pitch-black yet, so there was no need for the lantern. At least, she hoped that she wouldn't need it. She hadn't exactly thought of how long she had planned to talk with Keenan out there.

He was there, to her great relief. How embarrassed she would have felt if she ran out to meet a boy, only to be rejected and made a fool of herself. But he was here.

_But that is not the purpose of this meeting. _Oh, if she could just control her thoughts! This was not some rebellious rendezvous between two teenage lovers. It was not allowed to be that. She straightened her posture a little more and set her mouth in a firm line as she marched over to where Keenan leaned against the barn door.

Keenan looked up casually as she approached, as if she was a pleasant surprise. "Well, hello," he greeted.

Donia took a deep breath. "Listen, I don't appreciate being humiliated like that in front of my family. They're already watching my every move and I don't need them to be suspicious."

"Why would they be suspicious? We were just making conversation." His green eyes shined mischievously.

Donia groaned loudly. Did he need it to be spelled out for him? "Because we are close in age and we were whispering and staring at each other. I'd say that's reason enough."

Keenan pushed off the wall and took one long step diagonally so that Donia was between him and the barn. "It is?"

Donia fought for her voice to remain steady. "Yes." It didn't work.

He took a step forward. "Well, I don't see a problem with that. We are, after all, two young adults who are both without a mate."

She took a step back, right into the barn wall. "But it's wrong," she countered lamely.

He took a step forward. "Why? Is there a problem with me? Is there something about me that does not make me suitable for Donia O'Brien?" He placed both hands on the wall on either side of her head.

He had her trapped mentally and physically. He was leaning in, getting closer and closer, and she had no way out. "Please," she begged, her voice shaking. Unfortunately, she didn't quite know if she was begging him to come closer or move away.

Keenan looked at her, his green eyes like lush leaves in the summertime. He was searching for something, but Donia didn't know what it was. He found it, though, because his lips pulled into a heartbreaking smile before he stepped back, releasing her from her prison of barn walls and tanned arms in rolled up white shirt sleeves.

"Until next time, Don," he whispered before giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. As he leaned in, closer to her now than ever before, she smelled wildflowers and grass and sunlight—if that was even possible. He grinned again—more of a genuine, sweet smile this time—and walked briskly to the road that led to his house.

And his lips left a warmth on her cheek that didn't wear away for the rest of the night.

**Sorry for the long wait. Graduating high school is very chaotic. Yay class of '09! So bittersweet, though. Anyway, I want to hear from you guys. Are things going to fast? I'm tring to mimic the pattern that was in _Wicked Lovely_ with how Keenan tried to woo Aislinn. But other things are coming. This is not just a love story, though Donia's and Keenan's relationship is the focus. Oh, and just putting it out there, it is mentioned in _Wicked Lovely_ that Donia has glasses. So, why not try to use that feature as best as I can? Anyway, review please!!!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: If I owned Wicked Lovely, I wouldn't be working at my town's park district. **

"Knock, knock!" a muffled sing-song voice called from outside, accompanied by knuckles rapping on the door.

Donia shot up from her seat at the dining room table, knowing full well who had come calling, but still confused. It was only mid-morning. She set her book face hastily down on the table, saving her page, before rushing to the front door.

Sure enough, there was Anita, a wide grin plastered on her face and her amber eyes glittering with excitement.

Thunderous footsteps travelled down the stairs. "Is that Anita, Donia?" Connor asked excitedly, not bothering to keep the emotion from showing. Once he saw the visitor, he pushed Donia out of the doorway to scoop Anita in his arms and plant his lips on hers.

Donia more than willingly stepped out of view of the couple. It reminded her of things that were to come and others she didn't have. _And maybe I never will have. _

"Good morning!" Anita giggled. "That was quite the welcome."

Connor chuckled. "You might want to get used to it. That's how I want to welcome you every day." His tone hinted at certain implications that Donia preferred to not think about. It hurt too much.

"I don't want to get used to it. Then I would take you for granted." Anita paused. "Actually, I was hoping to talk to Donia. Not that I don't take pleasure in spending time with you," she added quickly.

A sigh. "Alright. You two haven't had much of a chance to spend time together lately, I understand. Donia!"

She walked over to the threshold, not sure if her brother and best friend were done exchanging declarations of love and the like. "Are you two finished?" she asked, feeling more like an eight year-old rather than an eighteen year-old.

Anita giggled, still wrapped in Connor's arm. "Yes, the coast is clear, Donia. Honestly, you will have a different opinion once Josh comes home." But there was something in her friend's voice that made Donia think that it was a lie—a hopeless lie.

Connor released his fiancé. "I'll let you girls catch up." He quickly pecked Anita on the lips and left the girls alone at the door.

"So, why are you here so early? I mean, it's great to see you after such a long time, but I thought you'd be helping your parents and preparing for the wedding and all."

Anita waved a small hand in the air, brushing Donia's assumptions away. "No, we're almost done with all wedding arrangements and I'm just about ready to move out." Her eyes lit up as she discussed her new life that drew closer every day. "But I told them that you had been working so hard with teaching and thought you might need some cheering up. They let me go right away, especially since they like you so much. So, here I am, ready to bring you out of your doom and gloom!" She waved her arms in the air dramatically as she struck a pose.

Donia rolled her eyes and grinned. "Thanks. So, what did you have in mind to lift my spirits?"

"A fun-filled, thrilling day with me, of course!"

She giggled at Anita's tone more than her answer. "Alright, I'll oblige. I don't want the new neighbors to see you dragging me off against my will."

Anita only laughed as she took Donia's hand and led her to the road. Only when they had reached the edge of the woods did she stop and release her friend, but an expression of shock was etched on her face. "Wait, what did you mean when you said 'new neighbors?'"

"Oh, you haven't heard yet? The Willis' sold their land. These three brothers moved in a few days ago." Donia furrowed her brow. _Anita knows everything, how could she not have known this?_

Anita let out a shrill squeal and jumped up and down twice. She frantically turned around as if she was looking for eavesdroppers. She then grabbed Donia's hand again and led her into the woods at a brisk pace.

"Anita, what's wrong with you? Why are you behaving so strangely today?" Donia reconsidered this accusation. "Well, I should say more strangely than usual."

Her friend ignored the insult. "You must be poking fun at me."

"About what? Saying that you're odd? Of course I am—"

Anita sighed impatiently. "No. About you saying that three brothers moved into the Willis' place."

Donia furrowed her brow. "No, why would I? They even came over for dinner last night."

Anita's eyes looked as if they were to pop out of their sockets.

"What?"

"You mean to tell me," Anita began slowly, "that you already met Keenan and this is how you behave? And, oh Lord, you have to tell me what happened last night!" Her amber eyes danced with the prospect of good gossip.

Donia raised her eyebrows. "Wait, you've already met Keenan? As in Keenan Dwyer? Where?"

"Never mind that," Anita said as she waved her arms dramatically in the air. "I met him when I was at Gilmour's a few days ago. But what happened?!"

Donia eyed her friend suspiciously, trying to gage any motive in Anita's too-innocent face. "Why?" she asked slowly, accusingly.

That was all Anita needed to plunge head-first into her storytelling. "Well, first let me tell you he's quite the gentleman. He helped me with my groceries. But anyway, as we were walking, he kept asking questions about you."

Donia couldn't help but be intrigued. "What kinds of questions?"

Anita leaned in closer to Donia, looking all the more like a gossiping teenager. _Which, of course, fits her perfectly. _"Suspicious questions," she whispered. "Like about your happiness and you being almost betrothed to Josh Gilmour."

Donia's eyes widened as she nervously adjusted her glasses. "And what did you say?" she inquired nervously as she realized that Keenan probably knew more about her than she thought.

"I just told him the truth."

"And which truth is that?" Donia had too many answers to questions like those to keep track of what she was saying to whom.

"The real truth, Donia."

"Oh. That one." She paused to consider this. Keenan must have known about Joshua and all the…issues that came with him. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage. "What exactly did you tell him, Anita?"

She sensed Donia's sudden anxiety and stepped back, hands defensively in front of her. "Just that you didn't seem very happy with what was most likely going to happen between you and Josh. And don't try do deny it, because I'm not stupid. Admit it, ever since he's hinted that he wants to marry you, you've lost all life. You don't laugh or have fun anymore. And I understand that you've got big responsibilities now, but so do I, and I don't hole myself up and shut away the rest of the world. I've been trying to get you to have fun for the past few months and you just push me away." She sighed. "I know this isn't the real you, Donia. I just miss my best friend so much and I just had to tell someone, I guess."

"That's what you told him?" Donia whispered, completely stunned.

"Well, yes, in a nutshell." Anita stared at the ground, for once ashamed of her actions.

"And you really think that?"

She didn't look up. "I do."

Donia sighed, drinking in all that Anita had confessed. Had she really distanced herself from her best friend? Sure, she hadn't spent much time with Anita since months ago, but she had only thought that was what happened to adults. Her parents rarely had company over except for visiting relatives. _No wonder Ma is so grumpy all the time. _It was inevitable. She—Anita, too—had been catapulted out of childhood in what seemed much too short of time. It had only seemed like yesterday that she and Anita were thirteen and climbing trees and gossiping about boys.

"Donia?" Anita murmured cautiously, breaking Donia out of her trance.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Yes?" She rubbed her eyes under her glasses as if she had just woken from a deep sleep, pushing her frames askew on her face. She set them back squarely on her nose before focusing on her friend.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"About what?"

"About being happy."

Donia considered this for a moment again. She couldn't lie—not to Anita. But despite all that she told her, Donia still wasn't convinced. Whenever she tried to persuade herself otherwise, her thoughts always gravitated back to Ma. "I don't know," she answered lamely.

"You know what? I think Keenan's good for you," Anita announced.

Donia stared at Anita, completely dumbstruck. "What? What brought you to this conclusion?"

"I told you before. He seemed really interested in you for some reason. And today there is something odd about you." She eyed Donia speculatively.

Donia could feel the blood pool in her cheeks. "What do you mean there's something odd about me?" she asked as innocently as possible.

"Your skin seems to glow, as if you have either been in the sun for a while or…something else." Anita's voice left a suggestive tone in her words that made Donia confirm that Anita knew somehow the tension between her and Keenan. _And that was after only one night. Who knows what would happen if we saw each other again?_

"Glowing? Really, Anita?"

She giggled. "I'm serious. Everything about you looks brighter—your skin, hair, even your eyes aren't as icy of a blue. They're almost like the sky."

Donia sighed and shook her head, but not quite able to hide the grin that spread across her face.

"I'm not jesting! I think it has to do with Keenan. So what exactly happened last night?" Anita's amber eyes glittered in anticipation.

Donia looked down at her shoes as she felt the blood pool in her cheeks. As much as she loved Anita, she wasn't sure that she wanted to confide in her. Anita had a tendency to talk as much as Mr. Gilmour about business that wasn't hers. She could find the smallest hint of scandal in a story, too. She glanced back up at her friend and warm amber eyes met her blue ones.

When is there ever any fun without risks?

"Well," Donia begain, "he definitely enjoys violating my personal space." She told Anita everything—the closet, the dinner table, and even the late night barn meeting. She included every detail that she could think of—how close he really was to her, the secret touches he would give her, the strange light that illuminated his skin and hair and eyes, how her breath caught in her throat, and the constant racing of her heart. It poured out of her like a waterfall, the words pouring out of her mouth so freely as if she had rehearsed her speech. She didn't hold anything back, even her emotions. The emotions that so fiercely conflicted in her heart, that sent her head in a tizzy. "And the worst of it all," she lamented, "this was only the first time I saw him. He lives right by me, Anita. I have no hope of avoiding him!"

Anita's eyes clouded in confusion. "Why would you ever think of doing such a thing?"

"Imagine what might happen if we saw each other a second or third time!"

She giggled. "Yes, I can only imagine…"

Donia blushed again and swatted at Anita. "Oh, shut up!"

Anita jumped playfully out of her friend's reach. "You got to catch me first, Donia!" She strayed from the carefully followed path and weaved through the trees, stopping about thirty feet into the foliage. She turned back to Donia, a playful smirk on her lips and in her eyes. "Come on, Donia! Or else I'll tell the whole world!"

As Anita waited in silence, Donia listened. She heard nothing, but that nothing felt like something. She hesitated, unsure of whether to let go and follow her best friend into the trees, or to follow a very speculative hunch. _But I feel this way every time I come here._ _But nothing happens. _A cool breeze swept through the trees and the millions of leaves rustled in a roar. The smells of autumn filled her nostrils. The woods were taunting her, it seemed.

"Keenan Dwyer is sweet on Don—_ahhh!_" Anita raced into the forest as Donia sprang on her in an attempt to clamp her friend's mouth shut before she could utter the end of the embarrassing statement. Both of them plunged into the thick forest, laughing and screaming recklessly. They dodged the trees that blocked their paths and circled around each other, always no less than an arm's length away.

Farther and farther they ran, not bothering to look where they were going. And why would they? There was nothing to fear.

"Gotcha!" Donia yelled triumphantly as she snatched Anita's elbow, but just as quickly released her.

"Hey, you had me and just let go!"

An arctic wind swirled around the girls. It caught their breaths and sent goose bumps across their skin. Donia looked around at the area surrounding them for the first time since she stepped of the path. Every visible surface—the barks of trees, the fallen leaves on the forest floor, the brush that found shelter underneath the ancient oaks —were frosted over, as if it were late November instead of September. The shrubs had shriveled away, dormant for the, what seemed to be, ever-present winter.

"Donia?"

"Look," she murmured.

And they did. They took it all in, this sphere of winter that contrasted with the land not twenty feet behind them.

"Was this always here?" Donia asked in a whisper.

Anita could only shake her head.

Donia thought she saw something hiding within the trees. Something that she knew had never been here before. "Is that a house in the distance?"

Another nod from Anita.

"Whose could it be?"

Anita finally found her voice. "I don't know, but they sure haven't shown themselves in town. But it could be abandoned."

Donia shook her head, maintaining her gaze on the tiny cabin in the distance. "I don't think so. Look, there's smoke coming from the chimney."

**Sorry for the long wait, guys. I've kind of been caught up in life in general. I won't explain because I'm sure you guys don't care about my excuses. I actually wasn't planning on stopping here, but I thought that you all deserved something. So it's kind of short. But we all know who's living in that house, right? Well, it could be one of two characters. Hint: I'm not that mean to Donia and Anita. Send me a review on who you think it is though! Reviews give me motivation, by the way!**

**--Loie**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hello my lovely readers! No, I didn't die. Here's the next bit of the story!**

**Disclaimer: I. Own. Nothing. **

The girls studied the tiny cabin in the distance. It was small in size—definitely not able to house a family. It was fashioned from felled trees, though there were no stumps to be seen. The house appeared new, for there was no rotting wood or hasty patches in the boards that were so neatly stacked on top of another in perfect straight lines. At the same time, though, the girls had the strangest impression that this cabin had been here far longer than they had. They just never looked carefully enough. Glazed over the exterior was silver frost, giving the house a sheen that looked surreal. Water had formed small icicles that dangled ever so delicately on the roof, sending light bouncing over the front porch where a small rocking chair sat in the left corner in front of a window that was guarded with heavy drapes. And sure enough, a small trickle of smoke oozed from the brick chimney, slow and deliberate.

"Who do you think lives there?" Anita asked in a low voice.

"I'm not sure. Not anyone I know, that's for sure." Donia turned to look at her friend, but only to find empty space beside her. She turned back to the house, which Anita was approaching cautiously. "Anita!" she hissed. "What are you doing?"

She turned abruptly, exasperation plain on her face. "I'm going to see if anyone's home, of course!" She turned right back around and tip-toed to the porch. Carefully, Anita climbed the three stairs, applying pressure slowly enough so that the rotting gave no groan of protest against her weight. Years of sneaking around town and eavesdropping on the town gossip gave both girls these strange talents. But even though Donia was confident that her friend would remain silent as the grave, something about the place made Donia think that there were other ways that someone living in the small cabin could detect intruders.

Anita successfully made it to the window that was to the left of the door. She crouched down so that her eyes were just above the window pane. A few seconds later, Anita pried her eyes away from the scene in front of her to violently wave at Donia, beckoning her to join her on the porch.

Donia shook her head violently. _There is no way I am snooping around that house._

"Come here!" hissed Anita. "You've got to see this!"

Donia folded her arms over her chest and planted her feet firmly in the frozen ground.

"Oh, come on, Donia! Don't be such a coward."

_That girl is going to get us both caught._ She scowled and hurried to her friend's side before the foolish girl could utter another word, gliding up the stairs silently like a specter.

"Alright, Anita, what could possibly be so interesting that you had to practically shout to the world?" Donia whispered.

Anita looked incredulously. "I was barely mouthing the words, Donia."

"No you weren't. I'm surprised we haven't been caught yet, you were so loud."

"I swear I—"

"Whatever. What was so important about this beat up shack, anyway?" Donia maneuvered around Anita crouched down to peek though the curtains.

Inside was like stepping back in time twenty years. Hanging on the walls were pictures of old theater and silent film stars in addition to a sparkling ruby red flapper's dress. All of the furniture was adorned with gold and silver studs running along the woodwork and holding the plush maroon and green fabric in place. On one of the walls were ceiling-to-floor shelves, all filled with books that looked to be hundreds of years old. Compared to the elegant surroundings, those shelves appeared oddly out of place.

"I'm not sure if around here is the same, but where I come from, it is extremely rude to approach another's property uninvited, let alone looking into their house," an icy breath whispered in Donia's ear.

With a yelp, Donia jumped back from the window and fell to the floor, landing painfully on her behind. She looked up at the source of the sweet yet deadly voice to find a tall redhead glaring down at her. Her skin was white as snow and her lips had the slightest blue tint to their pink color. Her eyes were so blue that looked like they would shoot icicles if they could. She wore a brown gown that looked to be five hundred years old. It was laced up in front, the wide base of a triangle at the neckline that drew to a point at the waist. The sleeves were just off the shoulders and hugged her slender arms beautifully. Looking down once again, Donia noticed that her skirt went down several inches farther than her own, which ended mid-calf.

"Well?" The girl, who looked no older than Donia herself, asked. "What do you and your friend have to say for yourselves?"

"I…um…well, you see—"

"Please don't tell me that you were just merely curious as to what was inside my house, because I have heard that one more times than I can count," the girl interrupted Donia's stuttering.

"Oh but I was!" Anita chimed in. "Me and Donia, you see, we've been through these woods ever since we were little girls and we've never come across your house before. Well, I just had to see what it was all about. It's so curious…"

The girl raised her delicate eyebrows.

Anita did not take the gesture's hint and continued. "Yes, so many things are happening lately. This town is finally bustling with excitement! First I'm getting married, Josh is coming home soon, Donia has new neighbors—one who's sweet on her—and now you've moved into the area! By the way, what is your name? I'm Anita and this here is Donia."

Donia had finally managed to rise to her feet again and brushed off the splinters of wood that stuck to her skirt. She quickly grabbed Anita's wrist and tugged her to her side. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you and we apologize for being intrusive. It won't happen again." Donia started down the steps, Anita in tow.

"Wait just one moment."

The girls froze in their tracks. Slowly turned on the spot to the intimidating girl that stood on the porch, arms crossed over her chest, but her eyes were not as menacing as before.

"What did you mean about new neighbors?"

Anita did not hesitate to jump in. "Well, there are these three brothers that moved into the Willis' place. And the one of them—Keenan, right Donia?—is completely sweet on her. What did he do again, Donia?"

All eyes were on Donia, much to her dismay. She had no intention to share the intimate details of the happenings between her and Keenan with this less-than-friendly young woman. Though she couldn't help but remember the sudden interest she had when Anita mentioned the Dwyers.

"Well, he just talked to me a bit, that's all," she shrugged.

The redhead raised an eyebrow, at Donia's vague explanation. "I don't believe a word you say. Keenan does not just_ talk _to girls he chooses," she explained steely. "He seduces them."

"Wait, how do you know about Keenan?" Donia asked. By the expression on the girl's face, she was familiar with more than Keenan's name and face. There was something going on that Donia was sure was much more than a newcomer being sweet on a girl.

The girl sighed. "You'd better come in so I can explain everything properly." Without another glance at Donia or Anita, she walked gracefully into her cabin, the two girls following with more than a little apprehension.

"Take a seat," the redhead huffed in exasperation. "You're going to be here a while."

Donia and Anita cautiously sat on one of the adorned couches, afraid that their invisible grime might destroy the furniture's beauty. The mystery girl sat opposite them in a maroon armchair, just as decorative as the couch sofa they were occupying.

The three of them sat in silence for a few painful seconds before the redhead spoke up. "I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Liseli Malone. I too am a newcomer here, but for different purposes than the so-called Dwyers."

"Dwyer isn't Keenan's real surname?" Donia asked. _Why would Keenan and his brothers need to carry a pseudonym?_

"No, it isn't. They don't even have surnames. It is just a strategy they use so as to not stand out much to others."

Anita giggled. "It sure doesn't help much. With those charming good-looks, they could be called John, Robert, and James Smith and they would still be noticed."

Irritation flashed through Liseli's icy blue eyes. "Yes, well, of course all the women and girls notice. That's their goal. That's why they came here."

Donia sensed something amiss. "What do you mean? Why would they come here to Sugar Creekjust so that they can win the attention of a few small town girls? They can go to New York City or Albany for that."

"It's Keenan's decision as to where they go. They travel often from town to town. And each time, Keenan sets his mind on some poor girl to seduce and destroy. He's all too good at it, too. His brothers come with so they can help in any way and also to keep things less suspicious. After all, who would trust a young man not even twenty who lived alone?

"It's like a sick game that he plays with young girls' hearts. He does not fall in love with them. He may lust for them, but it's never love. But every time those girls think that he loves them just as much as they love him. It's all lies, but they always fall for him. Not once has a girl resisted Keenan's allures. And he is quite the charmer. But then he just spits them out and leaves them practically for dead. He ruins their lives, destroys their families and walks away without an ounce of guilt in his heart. He's _dangerous_." Liseli's piercing stare was aimed right at Donia, who shivered at the intensity of her words.

"Are…are you saying," Donia said as she struggled to keep the fear from her voice, "that Keenan has chosen me to tempt?"

Liseli merely nodded her head soberly.

Donia laughed nervously. "Why would he choose me, a little farmer's daughter from a small town? I have nothing to give him."

"I don't know how he chooses them, but he just does. And once he does, there is no going back for either him or the girl. Keenan is not to be trusted, Donia," Liseli implored. _She almost looks desperate._

Anita shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Liseli, but what makes you think that we could trust you? You nearly scared the bejeezus out of us not five minutes ago and now you're asking Donia here to obey your every wish. I don't believe it. "I've met Keenan, and he seemed to be nothing but a gentleman."

Liseli sighed, not bothering to hide her irritation. "It is all just a ploy. Do you country girls really trust a boy after walking with him once? An act of kindness means nothing."

Anita's eyes went wide as saucers. "How did you—"

"Never mind that," the redhead snapped. "You girls must trust me. Why do you think I'm here in the middle of nowhere? I've dedicated my miserable life to following Keenan and tracking down every girl that he sets his eyes on to warn them about him. And do you know what? They never _listen._ If I had it my way, they would reject him altogether. But no, each time they fall for his beautiful face and charming charisma. Unfortunately, the bastard is so persistent that there is no escaping him."

"And…I need to escape him?" Donia asked barely above a whisper.

"Yes."

"How?"

"You can't."

Donia's throat suddenly went dry. She thought back to the beautiful boy that had sat next to her at dinner and, who gave her butterflies in her stomach every time he smiled. Sure, he definitely had enough confidence for ten men, but there was something about him that Donia couldn't put her finger to. It was some kind of compulsion to trust him unconditionally. It scared her and thrilled her at the same time.

But now, as she stared into the blue eyes of this strange girl, she couldn't help but believe her. Why should someone who looked as young as Donia give up her life just to protect others? No, she had to either be right or truly hate Keenan. _Or both_.

"Then what do I do?" Donia asked.

"Never trust him. If he asks you to do something or go somewhere, don't. You never know if it will be a trap. Most of the time, it will. And all of the time, you will regret it."

Shivers traveled like shock waves up and down Donia's spine. "Alright, I will try."

Liseli shook her head violently. "Donia, you can't just try. You must _do_. I know firsthand what happens when you just _try_ to resist Keenan. The next thing you know, you've given up everything for him, only to be left for dead." Donia could have sworn she felt the room get colder as Liseli talked, but it must have been her imagination.

Anita gasped. "You were sweet on Keenan, weren't you? And that's why you're here."

The girl nodded her head. "Will you heed my warning now?"

Donia knew that he question was directed at her. She recalled the other night and all the obvious advances that Keenan made on her. _Obvious, but stealthy all the same_. After hearing Liseli, it started to make sense. "Yes."

Relief flooded the girl's face, yet it was still guarded and severe. "Good. Now, you shouldn't be here. Go back to your homes and remember what I said. I will be making sure that you do."

Donia didn't like the implicit meaning of those words. In her opinion, there were too many strangers that just seemed out of place recently. But she kept her thoughts to herself and nodded as she grabbed Anita by the hand and hurried out the door.

"Oh, and girls?"

Donia stopped in her tracks and turned to face Liseli, who was in the threshold of the front door. "Yes?"

"Don't tell Keenan that you talked to me about him. Better yet, don't mention to him or his brothers that you met me."

"Why?"

Liseli adverted her gaze. It was the first time that Donia had noticed the redhead showing some kind of nervousness. "Keenan just doesn't appreciate it when I try to tell the truth about him, that's all." Without another word, she went back into the cabin, shutting the door firmly behind her.

The girls found the path back to home easily enough. They knew the way, even though they had never seen Liseli's cabin before. It was all the more proof that something strange was happening in these woods.

It was quite a ways before Anita spoke. "Donia? I know this place. That cabin was not there before. And it sure wasn't built last month. Something strange is going on."

"Yeah." Donia had a feeling that the suddenly-appearing shack was just the beginning of the bizarre things that were to come. _Something is going on in Sugar Creek._

They walked down the path and out of the canopy of trees. Surprisingly, they had only been gone for a couple hours. The sun was still bright and high in the sky, as weak as its heat was. It could have been no later than lunchtime.

Donia and Anita finally approached the O'Brien's front gate, and, inevitably, the front gate of the Willis' land, now the Dwyers'. And not far was, ironically, Keenan. He noticed the girls instantly as they tried futilely to avoid him. _I just have to avoid him altogether. I don't need any temptations._

"Donia! Anita!" Keenan jogged up to them faster than they could escape into the house. "How are you lovely ladies today?"

The girls looked at each other nervously, Liseli's words still fresh in their minds. "Um, we're doing well, thanks," Donia finally answered. "But we were just about to go inside to eat, so I suppose that we will see you later."

Keenan's beautiful smile faltered. "Did I say something to offend you?"

"Oh, no," Anita jumped in. "It's nothing. We're just a bit worn out from walking through the woods this morning." Donia almost groaned. _Can't Anita at least say we were somewhere else?_

"The woods? What do you do in there?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just explore, that's all." Anita kept her best innocent smile plastered to her face. Donia could only pray that Keenan couldn't see through their vague excuses.

Keenan raised an eyebrow at Donia, obviously waiting for a confirmation. She could only nod her head, lest she say something that might expose their specific whereabouts.

"Alright. Well, have a good lunch, Donia. Anita." His piercing honey wheat eyed stare never left Donia.

The girls took that as their cue to escape. They hurried through the front walk, up the porch stairs and into the house, closing the door promptly behind them. Donia leaned on the door as if Keenan was likely to barge in at any moment.

"That was a close one. What am I going to do now, Anita?"

**Yeah...sorry for the massive delay (hides behind her bio textbook). I've been busy....with college....and keeping in touch with friends from home....but not always in that order. Will you guys forgive and forget and send me a review, even though I don't deserve one? Oh, and sorry for any typos or really strange stuff. I just cranked this out and put it up asap for you guys. Cuz that's how much I love you!**

**--Loie**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Copyright laws…blah blah…I don't own them….blah blah…don't sue me….blah blah….**

Keenan watched as Donia dashed into her house and slammed the door. He continued to watch as he eavesdropped on their conversation. He watched that door as anger as volatile as a summer storm boiled in his blood.

Finally, realizing that he would by now look suspicious to any humans who were outside at the moment, he tore his eyes away from the O'Brien's front door. He did not, however, retreat to his own small abode. Instead, he walked down the dirt path into the forest, the same direction that Donia had come from. As he traveled deeper into the forest, he did not give the surrounding plants an extra burst of sunshine as he usually did, a sort of apology and promise to the trees and shrubs and flowers that suffered every year. _But they will not suffer for much longer._ No, he had to conserve his energy for what he predicted to be quite an encounter in the forest. Fire and ice never mixed. One always destroyed the other.

He followed the familiar route, straying from the path at the hollowed elm, making a slight left after the deer's thicket, the same way that the girls had gone not too long ago. Their scents, of flowers and of straw at the same time, still hung thickly in the scowled as suspicion transformed into affirmation. This was not a part of his plan. _But then, when are my plans ever the same as the winter fey?_

As Keenan approached the tiny cabin, he cringed at the sudden chill. The surrounding greenery was covered with frost. _The cold kills. _He swore that the world would have never-ending summers once Donia was his Summer Queen. Well, at least for the first decade or so. Beira must pay for her centuries of treachery somehow. Despite the cold creeping into his bones, the warning that he was not in his own territory, he knocked on the cabin's door, which opened immediately after the third rap on the old wood.

Liseli, of course, was the one occupying the threshold, her once fiery hair now frosted over and turning it into pale icicles. Keenan inwardly sighed. She would have made a fierce Summer Queen. Her eyes slowly travelled up from his boots to his eyes. Yes, he still had that effect on her, just like the other winter girls before her.

But then her eyes turned cold, like the rest of her frozen body. "What do you want, Keenan?" she huffed.

He instantly was brought back to the here and now, back to more pressing issues than lost girls, back to his potential Summer Queen who was being brainwashed by the woman that stood right in front of him. The ice coated on the porch began to melt around him as his temper grew.

"What did you tell Donia and her friend today?"

A smirk grew across her face. "Oh, yes, the two human girls. The blond is the one you fancy, right?"

Keenan could only nod his head silently.

Her smile faded as she mocked a frown and clicked her tongue twice. "Aw, it's a shame. She's the one that I think I knocked some sense into. The poor thing was practically shaking when she left with her friend. The friend, on the other hand, is thicker than a cinderblock. Oh well, at least I got the one I wanted." She paused in dramatic thought. "Hmm, how many summer girls does this make now that I've been Winter Girl?"

"Twenty-three," he growled. "You listen here, Liseli. I don't care that you have a personal vendetta against me even more than the others. You're very close to breaking the rules. How could you let them into your house?! It's a museum of your human life! They could have figured it out!"

Liseli chuckled and shook her head at the Summer King. "Oh please, Keenan. I wasn't a human that long ago. They could just think that I kept my mother's things after she died or that I am infatuated with the 20s. Don't try to convince me that by seeing some relics from the good old days will lead them to think that I am from that time, let alone a faery. It's absurd and you know it."

"Just stay away from her and remember the rules," he glowered at her.

Liseli laughed, her frozen breath pelting at Keenan. "You can't tell me to do that, Keenan, so don't try to trick me. I've been doing this for far too long to be deceived, even by the likes of you. Besides, don't you think that Beira is keen on telling all her new winter girls exactly what they can and cannot do in this little game the second that they failed the test?"

Of course not. Keenan's excuse for a mother relished the thought of the game to continue for eternity just to have her opportunity for neverending winter. Beira would never risk anything that might result in Keenan having his powers restored. This included her or any of her minions breaking the delicate rules that were established nine centuries ago.

"That's what I thought. Now if you've got nothing else to say to me, I suggest you leave. You know very well that I don't like uninvited guests, even you." Liseli stepped back to shut the door, but the Summer King stopped it before she could move it halfway closed.

"Liseli, please." Keenan fought to come into eye contact with the Winter Girl who hastily averted her gaze so that the wicker chair on the porch became suddenly very interesting.

She finally gave up and looked into his eyes. "Please what, Keenan? We seem to go through this every time there's a new girl you're looking to catch." She let out a bitter laugh. "This one is no different from the others."

"But she is different from the others! I know it!"

"It will go the same way: I won't help you, you'll make her fall for you, but not quite enough for her to take the test. In the end, I win and so does Beira. So, unless you wish to have a chat with your mother about this, I suggest that you leave before she comes."

**First off, I really am sorry for the long wait and the shortness of this chapter. Believe me, I know how it is to have to read old chapters to remember what's going on and/or being disappointed for getting a really short chapter. But, this is what I have put together over the past few months when I've had the inspiration to write. Unlike some truly gifted people on this site, I just can't force myself to write. That's why it takes forever and a day. I apologize for this, but that's the way it is. Thanks for sticking with the story!**

**--Loie**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: No, no, and NO!**

**By the way, since I have no fluff in my life, I was in the mood for writing fluff, even if it does go against my planned sequence of events. So, yay for fluff!!! Be happy, chicas. And if there's a chico out there reading this, hopefully you're happy too.**

Donia trudged up the stairs and collapsed on the porch swing. Toes touching the floor, she let herself be swayed back and forth as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Another week had finally ended. Between teaching in the daytime and helping to plan the finishing touches of Anita's and Connor's wedding at night, she had barely enough time to relax. Being the best friend of the bride and the sister of the groom gave her a double responsibility. There was only so much a girl could do.

At least she had been able to avoid Keenan Dwyer. There had been no awkward encounters with her new neighbor. Of that she was grateful for. She only saw him from afar and in passing, allowing no time to stop for conversation with him. From this distance she could still remember Liseli's words of warning. Anita thought it was just a whole bunch of bologna, this strange girl who seemed so keen on keeping Donia away from Keenan's irresistibly charming personality.

"She's just a bitter girl who wasn't good enough for him," Anita would repeat countless times over the week. "He let her go politely, I'm sure, and she hasn't moved on. Instead, she's trying to seek revenge."

Revenge or not, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Donia felt a light tap on her arm. She swatted it away and used the same arm to cover her eyes, pushing her glasses up to her forehead. "Not now, Shan."

"Guess again," a smooth voice chuckled.

Donia practically jumped out of her skin when she realized who the voice belonged to. She hastily straightened herself so that her posture was perfectly erect, glasses back on the bridge of her nose, and her legs crossed. Keenan merely chuckled at her reaction. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, Don. I just saw you on the porch and was wondering if you wanted to take a walk with me."

"What did you just call me?"

"Don. Hasn't anyone given you a nickname?"

"No."

"Well, I just gave you one. So how about that walk?"

His charming smile was perfect and she couldn't help but be enchanted by it, but all the more hesitant. _Doesn't he have any flaws?_ "Not to sound rude, but why?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I just was going to go wandering for a while. It's good to get away for a while, don't you think?" He paused just long enough to let her think, but not enough to let her think thoroughly. "So what do you say?"

Before her mind could catch up with her heart, she blurted out an "okay."

Keenan's smile grew even wider. "Excellent."

Donia hastily picked up her bag of schoolbooks from the floor and turned around to say, "Let me put this away and let my mother know I'm gone," before dashing into the house. She rushed upstairs to toss her bag on the bed, back down and into the kitchen to bid her mother good-bye, and back to the porch, stopping only a few steps away to slow down to a casual walk. She could not let Keenan know that she was eager to go with him. Yet, he was smirking when she turned around from closing the door behind her, like he knew something she didn't.

"What?" she asked, slightly irked by his flawless confidence.

He just shook his head, his strawberry blond hair swaying slightly and reflecting rays of sunshine.

She scowled at his silence. "Alright, nevermind then. Where are we going anyway?"

"Well, I wanted to go exploring in those woods you and Anita are so fond of. And since you are an expert of these parts, I thought it would be good to have you as a tour guide." He flashed another beautiful smile, leaving Donia dazed as she followed him down the walk and into the road. She did not regain her full awareness until they were halfway to the edge of the woods. _There's no turning back now._

The two of them strolled past the scattered houses, keeping to the side of the road for any passing cars. Like a gentleman, Keenan kept to Donia's left, blocking her from the road and any potential danger it may bring. This, however, posed a problem. He kept close to her, so close that his hand or shoulder would occasionally brush against her, giving her a rush of warmth so much like the sun beating down on a hot summer's day. It may have seemed crazy, but that was the only way Donia could think to describe it as the pleasant heat traveled across her skin.

"So, how long have you lived here?" Keenan asked conversationally.

Donia let out a humorless—and very unladylike—snort. "My whole life."

"Now that doesn't seem very enthusiastic. What's wrong with this place? I happen to like it for the whole week and a half that I've been here."

"I never said there was anything wrong with it," she countered defensively.

"Ah, but you implied it," he shot back just as quickly.

She glared at him and his accursedly beautiful green eyes with her icy blue ones over her glasses.

Keenan chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, milady." That comment earned a roll of the eyes from Donia.

"What now?"

She couldn't help but smile to herself. "It's nothing."

Keenan turned towards her and continued walking, but sideways now, right foot crossing over left. "Oh, but it is. You're not like those kinds of girls who roll their eyes at any little thing. You're different."

Donia liked this comment infinitely more than she should have. "And how am I different?"

Keenan shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. You just are. But back to the matter at hand. What were you thinking of?"

Donia smiled again in spite of her efforts to keep a straight face. "'Milady?' Who says that?"

"I do."

"Exactly. No one says that. It's so strange."

"Ah, but strange in a good way, I'm sure." He flashed another confident smile.

Donia hesitated, debating on whether to tell the truth. "Yes," she finally answered quietly, her eyes trained on the ground in front of her.

They finally reached the trees, a welcome layer of leaves still holding on to their lush green color blocking the sun's surprisingly strong rays. It was unseasonably warm, more like a midsummer's afternoon than a late September's. Donia wished that she had thought to change into a short-sleeved blouse before going on this walk. She was still wearing her business-like long sleeved one from school.

Not more than fifty feet into the forest, Keenan took her hand and began to stray from the path. "Where are we going?" she hissed. "We shouldn't wander in the woods. It's not safe." She resisted his pull, both on her hand and on her heart, and stopped right where she was, next to the road.

"Not safe? What could be in these woods that could harm us?"

Donia opened her mouth, but then closed it noiselessly. She had immediately thought of the strange feelings she still had whenever walking through the forest every day to and from school, the notion that she was no longer alone in the tall trees that were huddled so close together that she could barely see one hundred feet into the forest. They had once hidden her in countless games of hide-and-go-seek, but now she believed that they hid something—or someone—else. What exactly, she could not even guess. She could only feel the eyes following her.

But she couldn't tell Keenan of her silly childish superstitions. She couldn't even tell her eight year-old sister.

Keenan reached for her hand again, slowly and conspicuously and she let him take her fingertips in his. She let him lead her through the thick tree trunks, farther and farther from her familiar path and into the woods that were once familiar, but were now so foreign. He laced his fingers with hers, sending a warmth all around her fingers that traveled through her hand and up her arm to permeate through the rest of her body.

"Besides," he said after a couple minutes of walking in silence, "I wouldn't let anything in these woods hurt you."

Donia's heart skipped a beat and she looked up to watch him carefully over her black rims, but her mouth could not utter a sound as he led her further into the green and brown abyss.

"Where are we going?" Donia asked as Keenan held a stray branch back so she could pass. "I thought _I_ was supposed to show _you_ around. It seems like you know your way pretty well."

"I wanted to make sure that I wouldn't get lost."

She scrutinized his over-confident smile that made his eyes seem even greener than usual. He was too perfect for there not to be a catch. "Why do I not believe you?"

"Don," he said, using his new nickname for her, "when have I ever given you reason to not believe me?"

She opened her mouth to respond that yes, he had given her reason not to believe him, but then closed it promptly when she realized that her suspicions were only based off of…nothing.

Keenan smiled smugly. "Exactly."

Donia swallowed hard and summoned all the courage that she could muster. She refused to remain stunned speechless in front of this boy. She would not give him that satisfaction, no matter what. She was almost a grown woman and she had to start acting like one instead of the silly teenage girl that still remained. Donia yanked her hand out of his warm grip and stopped in her tracks. "Where are we going, Keenan? I want to know. Right this instant."

Keenan wheeled around, looking at his newly empty hand as if was a foreign object, before making eye contact with Donia. She thought she caught a glimpse of frustration in his eyes, cloudy and dark as a thunderstorm, but it was immediately masked. All the same, it shocked her to see something besides his calm and cool collectiveness. It had never crossed Donia's mind that Keenan was something more than an arrogant charmer.

"Why must you know? Can it not be a surprise?"

"No, it most certainly cannot. If you think that I am the kind of girl who willingly follows strangers, Keenan Dwyer, then you are terribly wrong."

Keenan furrowed his eyebrows. "Don, I'm not a stranger. You can trust me to not hurt you. Come on, please? I was exploring the other day around here and found something I wanted to show you. I thought you'd like it. Please?" He stretched his sun-tanned hand toward her.

It looked so inviting, that hand. A large palm extended into long fingers, straight and strong. She could see the tiny lines in his palm that travelled around the subtle muscles. Donia remembered how warm that hand felt in hers—not hot and sweaty, like most other hands, but warm and smooth and dry, like a rock smoothed by the ocean and left out in the sun.

That open hand offered so many things. Friendship. Promise. Maybe even something more? No. That was not allowed to happen. She barely even knew this boy and Donia was already lusting after him. Her mother's voice rang in her head as she thought of all the chances she would be taking if she accepted that hand. She chanced to look in his eyes for signs of deception, deception that Liseli had spoken so vehemently of. But there was none. He seemed so genuine, this beautiful boy who was offering his hand patiently for her. _He is just being friendly. I can accept kindness, can't I?_

Keenan's green-gold eyes gave her all the confidence she needed to make her decision.

They walked hand-in-hand through the trees once again. They trekked in silence, listening to the quiet sounds of the birds and singing above them and the leaves rustling in the wind. Keenan took her through loops and turns often enough that Donia soon had no idea where she was, despite her years of exploration with Anita. The panic rose within her, for now she could not even think of escaping home if the need ever came. The woods were far too immense to go wandering aimlessly. She would have to rely on Keenan Dwyer to take her home safely.

_I only hope that he will prove to be trustworthy._

Donia could hear something in the distance, a bubbling, high-pitched sound. She knew that sound. Water. Donia looked in the direction of the noise, but could see nothing but endless trees. But she continued to hear the unmistakable flowing of water on rocks. She kept quiet and let Keenan guide her along.

The sound continued to grow louder until Keenan stopped walking. "Are you ready? We're almost there. But close your eyes so I can surprise you."

Donia stared long and hard at him before obliging. He took both of her hand and led her carefully once again.

Suddenly Donia could feel the sun's rays on her full force. It was then that Keenan brought her to a halt. "Alright," he whispered in her ear. "Open your eyes."

She was right. In front of her was a deep blue pond of crystal-clear water. A stream flowed into the body of water. Surrounding it was lush, green grass with scattered wildflowers. A lone tree stooped over the water's edge. While where Donia stood there was a gradual increase of depth, she could tell that there was a clean drop-off next to the tree. The sun beat down on her now that she stood without the covering of the trees and in the middle of the clearing and while she was sure that the grasses and flowers enjoyed the heat immensely, she looked longingly at the clear water that was just too enticing.

"Well, what are you wait for?"

Donia whirled to face Keenan, who had a devilish smirk across his face. "What do you mean?"

His teeth flashed in the sun. "We didn't just come here to look at it. It's a beautiful day for a swim." And with that, he walked to the tree, stripped down to his knickers—_dear lord his_ skivvies—and dove headfirst into the blue water.

Donia rushed over to the tree to watch him under the water as he twisted and turned to reposition himself. Keenan's head finally surfaced, his hair darkened by the water and slicked back. His eyes were positively sparkling with excitement. "Come join, Don. The water is perfectly cool. I know you want to."

Oh, and she wanted to more than anything. She could feel the sweat building under her arms and around her neck. Her blouse was starting to get damp as was the waistband of her skirt. The pond looked so inviting….

But reason jumped into her mind just as reason likes to do. She could not swim with a boy, especially at her age. Yes, she would swim with her brothers when she was younger, but that was then. And in the rare occasion that she would swim with Anita on a hot day…that was different. They were both girls, for one. But this was not acceptable, and she knew it. _Mother would disown me if she found out. _

Donia heard a splash at her feet and a cold and around her wrist. She looked down to see Keenan halfway out of the water with a beautifully wicked grin before she found herself in the cold pond, lungs half filled with water. She swam frantically to the surface, coughing up water and gasping for air.

She found the culprit and glared at him through her water droplet-covered glasses. "What was that for?! Now my clothes are soaked! What am I supposed to say when I come home after going for a walk with _you _drenched to the bone? That I accidentally fell in?" She swam over to the shallow end of the pond to walk up to dry land. Now that she was wet, goose bumps prickled her skin. She examined her clothes to assess the damage and quickly folded her arms across her chest as her cheeks grew warm.

Keenan followed Donia out of the pond. "Aw, I'm sorry for scaring you, Don. I thought we could just have some fun out here. What could it hurt? We could cool down in the pond while your clothes dry. Just hang them up on the tree branches. They'll be good as new in no time."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Then what are you going to do? Like you said, you certainly can't go back to the town looking like that. You might as well have fun. Live a little, Don."

She stomped over to the tree, acting like the child she was not anymore, and he followed, standing right behind her and right at the water's edge. Donia waited a bit more, knowing what would happen next. Keenan gripped her shoulder to turn her towards him. Donia took her cue and shoved Keenan with all her strength to the blue pool of water. He flew straight to the middle, the deepest blue with a thunderous splash that sprayed her with drops of water.

Donia laughed. She laughed harder than she had in months. She laughed at her victorious plot, at the expression of pure shock that Keenan wore as he was airborne, and at the way her heart beat loud and fast in her chest as her hands still tingled from the contact with his bare chest. She laughed until her sides hurt and bent double to minimize the pain. It was her breaking point. Everything came out in laughter.

Her fit stopped when a wave of water soaked her shins. Keenan was at her feet, a playful smile tugging on his lips.

_Oh, what the hell._

**XXXXX**

The Summer King lay in the tall green grass next to—whom he was sure to be—his future Summer Queen. Their clothes billowed in the wind above them as they hung from the tree branches drying. He turned to the beautiful girl, her eyes now a warm sky blue instead of holding their usual iciness, to find that she was already staring at him.

Yes, those eyes were warm, but they did not hold the same thoughts that the other sets of eyes before hers did. She looked as if she was looking straight through his glamour, but not at his true beauty, but what he really was, a fey. Keenan wondered if she could see past the glamour by now, but surely she would have seen all the faeries that they passed on their way to the pond. The Summer King winced inwardly thinking about that stage in the transformation. It was always the hardest part for his chosen girls to deal with. It was then that all secrets had to be revealed and the test to be given. _Will she even accept the challenge, or choose live in an assured eternity of summer like the ones before her?_

But no, for now, she was as ignorant as the mortals. For Donia could no longer be classified as human, he was sure. She lost her mortality the moment he chose her that day he watched her walk home with her little sister.

"Thank you."

Her voice brought him out of his reverie. "For what?"

"For this." She gestured to herself and the Summer King, still wet from their swim, undergarments clinging damply to their goose-bumped skin. "I needed a day to be a girl again." Donia leaned towards him to kiss him lightly on the cheek and laid down again where she was previously. Her light blue eyes did not meet his. Instead, they focused on the lush green grass that was their mattress.

Keenan turned to rest on his side to take Donia's hand in one of his and use the other to stroke her blond locks. At the touch, Donia looked to the Summer King once again. Keenan memorized her face as he saw it in that moment—her warm blue eyes, so different to how they were before as they looked out to him behind her black frames, her cheeks with the slightest tint of pink from embarrassment, her freckles that decorated those cheeks in a way that was juvenile but becoming at the same time, her softly curved pink lips that were just moments ago pressed to his face.

And her sweet kiss—_not hasty and heated, but passionate all the same_—still burned on his cheek.

"Anytime, Don. Anytime."

**I know, another long wait. Sorry. But better late than never, right? And maybe this chapter was worth the wait? Thanks for reading (and reviewing, if you feel so inclined).**

**--Loie**


	9. AN: WOW!

**Sorry guys, this isn't an update. But I just wanted to say thanks to whoever nominated this story for best fanfic for the Marr Awards!!! I had no idea what they were when I got the email saying I was nominated, haha. But yes, whoever did that, I love you!!!! I've never been in the running for any type of fanfic contest or anything in that realm. I'm so honored.**

**If you guys feel so inclined to nominate me (cuz whoever gets the most nominations goes on to be a real nominee to get voted), please do so! This is so cool, and it made my hellish week (aka finals week) a zillion times better! If you want to nominate me, here's the link to the homepage of the Marr Awards. **

**.com/?q=marrawards**

**I believe in being educated before making decisions, so check it out to see what it's all about. Then maybe if you still want to nominate Beautiful Immorality, there's a link on that page that will take you straight to submitting a nomination.**

**By the way, I get home in 2 days, so expect a new chapter sometime next week! I'll replace this entry in the story with the new chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing! **

**Alright, back to studying Spanish and Bio....**

**--Loie**


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